


For I Have Sinned

by mrbarbacarisi



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Priests, Catholicism, Confessional, Friendship, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Roman Catholicism, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 01:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14154180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrbarbacarisi/pseuds/mrbarbacarisi
Summary: Rafael never put much faith in the Catholic Church until he met Father Carisi.





	For I Have Sinned

Rafael was rooted to the sidewalk as he looked up. The building was tall and imposing, looming over everyone. Like the New York County Supreme Court, the building featured columns and a Latin inscription. The architecture was elegant. He was sure the interior would be just as gorgeous. But he couldn’t get himself to move toward the threshold.

The last time he had been inside a church, he was a teenager. Almost none of his experiences with the Catholic Church had been pleasant. Rafael had never found the word of God to be inspiring or comforting. He found it oppressive and claustrophobic. Fearing God always had him looking over his shoulder. He never felt love from the Church. Only hate and judgment.

He stood here now because he had promised his mother he would try again. Just talk to a priest, any priest. She would have preferred he see Father Mike. But that was the same person who judged him for loving another boy. The same person who stood behind his shoulder while he watched his father die. He felt no desire to speak to him again.

So instead, Rafael decided to visit St. Andrews Roman Catholic Church. A mere two blocks from the courthouse. He had thought maybe the familiar architecture would be comforting. It only made him more anxious. Forced him to remember his first ever day in court as well as the last mass he had attended. Mortification and shame and anger all rolled into one. It was quite unpleasant.

He took in a deep breath and forced his feet to move. He walked forward and up the short set of stairs. And then he stepped inside. The interior was just as grand. The room had a high cathedral ceiling. Rows of pews lined the floor, leading toward the dais. As expected, a statued figure of Jesus Christ on the cross hung on the far wall.

“Hello. How can I help you?”

The voice echoed in the open space. The room was empty. Rafael and a young priest were the only ones present. The priest stood a few feet away from him. Friendly smile, blue eyes, dark blond hair. Traditional garb, complete with the collar. But none of that was what grabbed Rafael’s attention. It was the accent.

“I didn’t know holy men could come from Staten Island.”

Instead of becoming offended or dismissing him from the building, the priest laughed. “God is everywhere, you know.”

Rafael chuckled. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

He motioned for him to come closer. “Why don’t you come in? I’m Father Carisi.”

“Rafael Barba.” He walked toward him and took the priest’s outstretched hand. The handshake was warm and firm.

“Good to meet you. Would you prefer Rafael or Mr. Barba?”

“Rafael is fine.”

“Well then, Rafael. What brings you here today?”

“I guess I’m here to confess.”

Father Carisi tilted his head and smiled kindly. “You don’t sound too confident.”

He sighed. “This was my mother’s idea. I haven’t been to any church in years. I’m a bit out of practice.”

“And what was your mother expecting you to get out of this visit?”

He shrugged. “Just someone to talk to. She thinks I’m sad, lonely, and overworked.”

“Ah. Well, so is most of Manhattan.”

Rafael snorted. “This is definitely not how I expected this conversation would go.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. An older priest lecturing me about how great God and Jesus and the Church are and why I should come back.”

“Is this better?”

“Much,” he admitted. The short conversation with Father Carisi had somehow taken the edge off. He didn’t feel like he was talking to a priest. He felt like he was just talking to any other person.

“I find the traditional approach to be stifling. My priest growing up didn’t put a barrier between himself and his parishioners. I try to do the same.”

Rafael nodded.

“Would you like to have a seat?”

“Sure.”

He slid into a pew near the door. Rafael sat next to him.

“I let my mother pressure me into things,” he said unbidden. Something about him made Rafael want to explain. And since he was already here, he might as well give it an honest try. “I think it’s because I feel guilty for cutting her out of my life when I went away to college.”

He nodded in understanding. “Trying to make up for lost time.”

“Yeah. I barely spoke to her for years. I know she was hurt by that. At the time, it seemed like the best response. Now, I’m wondering if it was cruel.”

His mother hadn’t taken well to Rafael coming out as bisexual. His father hadn’t either. But that had been expected. She could never go against her husband, even when he was hitting her. Rafael still hadn’t expected her to completely reject him the way she did. They both essentially disowned him in that moment.

The next day, he went to Harvard and didn’t look back. Maybe he should have given her another chance. Explained himself more fully. Ignorance was not the same as hatred, though they could go hand in hand. At the time, Rafael had assumed his mother hated him. But now, he knew that she just didn’t understand.

“You have a relationship with her now though?” The priest’s voice was gentle and considerate.

Rafael smiled. “Yeah, I do. She constantly nags me, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“It’s good you’ve made amends. But you don’t have to keep making up for your past mistakes. If you become subservient, it won’t be a healthy relationship.”

He studied his hands. That was how his father had maintained control. By making his wife and son subservient to him, beneath him. But this was not that.

“I tell her no often enough. My job keeps me too busy to see her as often as she would like.”

Father Carisi paused, studying him. “You don’t seem the pushover type. If you really did not want to be here today, you wouldn’t be. So what’s the real reason?”

He considered the question for a long moment. “I don’t really know.”

“Not to sound corny, but everyone’s on their own journey. You don’t have to have all the answers. If you just want to talk, that is perfectly fine.”

“You don’t need me to confess to anything?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

“I feel like I’m wasting your time.”

He raised a hand to gesture around them. “You see anyone else here? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Rafael wasn’t quite sure what made him stay, but he did. He stayed and talked. About his mother. About his job and coworkers. About Rita and theatre tickets. The concept of sharing private thoughts with a stranger seemed odd in the abstract, but surprisingly easy in person. He didn’t have to worry about the reaction. He could speak his mind freely. And Father Carisi would laugh and joke with him. There was no judgement or hate. Only acceptance. Rafael wondered where this version of the Church had been when he was growing up. If every priest was as kind and understanding as Father Carisi, he might not have left at all.

 

* * *

 

“Rafael,” Father Carisi greeted with a wide smile. “Good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” he responded easily.

He had continued to visit St. Andrews regularly after his first conversation with the priest. He surprised even himself by how often he wanted to go. The brightest spots of the past few weeks for Rafael had been when he was talking to the Father. Something about Father Carisi made the entire experience so much easier. He allowed Rafael to be a person. Not a parishioner or sinner. They had amiable conversations about anything and everything. Father Carisi was always warm and welcoming and understanding — everything that was the antithesis of Rafael’s past experiences with the Church.

But Rafael still had yet to tell him. Tell him that according to the Catholic Church, his very existence was a sin. Father Carisi was a kind man, but he still worked for the Church. Rafael worried how he would react. He had come to like talking with him. He would hate to have his bisexuality ruin yet another relationship in his life. But he also felt like he was hiding part of himself. That was something he had sworn never to do again.

“What would you like to talk about today?” The priest asked as they sat down.

“I have something I want to tell you that you might not take well.”

“Well, you haven’t shared a confession with me yet.”

He shook his head. “This isn’t a confession. It’s just something you should know about me.”

Father Carisi nodded for him to continue.

Rafael took in a breath before speaking again. “I'm bisexual. I am sexually attracted to men and women alike. In the Catholic Church, that's wrong. I think the Church is wrong. That’s why I left years ago. I honestly don't know why I'm back now. But here I am.”

"I'm glad you have been visiting me, Rafael," he replied with a soft smile. “But I want you to know this doesn’t change how I see you. Thoughts are not the sin. Acting on those thoughts is. However, I don’t believe that this is a sin. I can’t see God believing that loving _anyone_ is wrong. Even if they are also a man.”

Out of all the reactions Rafael had expected, this had not been on the list. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re allowed to say that to me, Father?”

He smiled. “Technically, I’m allowed to say whatever I want under the First Amendment. But I won’t tell if you don’t.”

He laughed. “Secret’s safe with me.”

“Was there something related to this you wanted to talk about?”

Rafael shook his head. “No– Actually. I can give you the full context of why I cut my mother out of my life.”

Father Carisi nodded in understanding. “You came out to her.”

“My father took it worse than she did, ultimately. But she followed his lead.”

“You have a good relationship with her now though. What about your father?”

“That doesn’t matter anymore. He’s dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Rafael flinched. It felt like déjà vu. Condolences from a priest on his father’s death. The anger boiled in his stomach again. “Don’t do that. He doesn’t deserve it.”

“Why not? I know he treated you badly.”

He scoffed. “ _Badly_ doesn’t begin to cover it.”

“I realize that family tensions can run high, but it’s not healthy for you to harbor this much anger toward a dead man. You will feel better if you forgive.”

Here it was. The party line. Rafael had thought Father Carisi was above that a few moments ago. But now it seemed that maybe he was just telling him what he wanted to hear.

“You want me to forgive him? For my own soul?”

“Yes.”

“According to _your_ Church, my soul is already damned. Not only have I scorned the Lord and Savior, I have committed grave sins. So I don’t think a grudge is really the worst thing in the world.”

“Rafael-”

“No. I really should be going. Goodbye, Father Carisi.”

Rafael didn’t wait for a response before storming out of the Church. This would be the last time he ever set foot in one.

 

* * *

 

In the weeks following, guilt slowly ate at Rafael. He wanted to stay angry with the Father. He wanted to keep it simmering in his chest. He wanted to hate the Church again. He wanted to scorn the entire establishment. But each day he spent away, the more the anger was replaced with guilt. It nagged and nagged.

He reacted too quickly. He didn’t give Father Carisi a chance to understand the full situation. He was just trying to help. Maybe he had a point. It was not really healthy to still be so incensed about a man who had been buried for 16 years. The priest was also still relatively young. He had probably been on the job for several years already, but Rafael figured he still had a lot to learn. All of his other conversations with him had been pleasant and supportive. He shouldn’t turn away from him just because of a bad reaction.

Still, Rafael dragged his feet on going to see Father Carisi. Too stubborn to admit he might be at fault. Too prideful to humble himself to anyone associated with the Catholic Church.

He snapped on a Wednesday during a rainstorm. He wasn’t sure what drove him to jog from the courthouse to St. Andrews — but before he could question himself, he had arrived at the door.

He took a moment to catch his breath and pushed open the door. Father Carisi was bent over a pew, organizing flyers and Bibles. He looked up as he stepped inside.

Rafael had forgotten an umbrella that morning. He had walked the few blocks to the church using just his coat for protection. His hair was wet and dripping on to his shoulders.

He froze when the priest met his gaze. He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t know why he was here. He wasn’t sure what to say. How do you apologize to a priest?

Father Carisi smiled at him. It was gentle, more gentle than usual. He gestured for him to come closer.

“Come in, Rafael. Get out of the rain.” His soft voice reverberated around the hollow room, echoing into the cathedral ceiling.

“Oh. Um. Sorry.” Rafael carefully wiped his feet on the mat at the door and walked to him. He had no idea what else to say in that moment, but he supposed that now would be a good time for his first actual confession. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

His reaction was not at all what he had anticipated. Father Carisi _chuckled_.

He sobered up quickly though, seeing Rafael’s confusion. “I’m sorry. It’s traditional but you don’t have to actually say that for a confession. And I’m pretty sure you’re not here for that anyway.”

“Does blowing up at a priest count as a sin?”

He smiled. “I don’t think so. But if you feel strongly, I absolve you.”

“No prayers?”

“Not necessary.”

“That’s helpful. I don’t have a rosary.”

“You don’t say? I never would have guessed.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. Something he would never have imagined doing to a priest at any other point in his life. Father Carisi laughed again.

But Rafael became solemn again. “I still want to apologize. For how I behaved. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“It’s okay. I should be the one apologizing. I pushed you when I didn’t really know everything. When you weren’t ready.”

He swallowed. “I’m ready now.”

Father Carisi gestured to take a seat. Rafael slid into the pew. The priest sat beside him.

“I’m listening, Rafael,” he said.

He took in a breath and looked down at his hands. “My father was never someone I could trust or depend on. When I was little, I would hide when he went into rages. When he would hurt my mother. When I got older, I couldn’t take it anymore. I would stand between them. Try to protect her as much as I could. But that just made it worse. He hurt me as well as her.”

He paused. The priest made no move to speak, just waited patiently for him to continue.

“I begged her,” he said. “I _begged_ her to leave him. She refused. The day the acceptance letter arrived from Harvard was the best of my life. It was my ticket out of there. I wanted to cut all ties. I wanted to be done with it. I knew my father would react poorly to my coming out but I did it anyway. I wanted that to drive the nail in the coffin of our relationship. And it did. But I didn’t realize that also included my mother. Not until I tried to get her out.”

“When was that?” His voice was barely above a whisper. A soft murmur. Rafael could feel the concern radiating off of him. He didn’t look up.

“A couple years out of law school. I had finally saved up enough to get her a new place. Get her on her own feet, away from him. I went to see her. She refused. I thought she had been hesitant to leave before because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. But I had given her a way out and she _stayed_ with him. She had fresh bruises on her arms when I saw her. He wasn’t getting better. He was getting worse. But she chose him over me.”

“People in abusive situations often don’t realize how bad things are until it’s too late.”

Tears pricked at the back of his eyes. The old frustration resurfacing. He wanted to protect her and she didn’t want his help. “I know. That’s why I wanted to get her away from him. Before he killed her. But it was too late by then. I had damaged our relationship. Irreparably, I thought at the time. She didn’t trust me when I had barely spoken to her in eight years.”

“She never stopped loving you, Rafael. A mother can never forget her child."

"I know. But my father definitely tried to make her forget me. He never approved of anything I did. He _hated_ that I went away to Harvard. I still worry to this day what he did to her when he found out I had offered to take her away. I abandoned her. I just _left_ her with him. For years. What did I expect would happen?”

“You did what you could with what you had. None of it is your fault.”

“It feels like it is. I was the light of her life and I tried to forget about her and my father completely.”

“When did your father die?”

“About 16 years ago. She refused to leave him through the end. I wanted to talk to her throughout, but I was worried about what he would do in response so I stayed away. Until she called me. Telling me that he was on life support. She couldn’t decide for herself. She was too upset and scared. She asked me to make the choice for her.”

“What did you choose?”

“The opposite of what you’re probably thinking. I said where there’s life, there’s hope. I kept him on the machines. I didn’t think my mother would forgive me if I pulled the plug. I didn’t think my priest at the time would either.”

“It wasn’t fair to have that decision dumped on you. I’m sorry you felt pressured by your mother or anyone in the clergy.”

“I don’t know why I felt that way. I never liked my priest. He was one of the reasons I stopped going to mass. He scorned me for being attracted to other boys. Maybe I thought if I made the right decision, I could be redeemed in his eyes. But the doctors told us that there was no hope of my father recovering. That keeping him alive was just prolonging his pain. Eventually, my mother begged them to turn off the machines. I made the wrong choice.”

“You did what you thought was best at the time.”

“I suppose. But when he was pronounced dead, I didn’t feel grief of any kind. I was relieved. A weight had been taken off my chest. We were finally free. We didn’t have to worry anymore. My mother was safe. She mourned him but I never shed a tear. He deserved what he got.”

“That’s a logical reaction, considering the circumstances.”

He chuckled hollowly. “You’re not going to tell me that only God is allowed to judge?”

Father Carisi shrugged. “By definition, humans are imperfect. You’re allowed to have your emotional reaction.”

“You still want me to forgive him?”

“I think you would feel better if you did. But I understand why you don’t feel that way. These are deep wounds that don’t go away easily.”

He sighed. “Yeah. Welcome to my life.”

“I’m glad you told me about this. I’m sorry I spoke too quickly last time. This is a sensitive subject and I didn’t give you the proper consideration.”

“It’s okay. I don’t really think clearly when I’m upset.”

“Neither does anyone else really.”

Rafael finally turned to meet Father Carisi’s eyes. “You’re right.”

“Would you like to talk about something else or do you need to get back to work?”

He glanced at his watch and sighed. He wished he had time to leave things on a lighter note, but the priest was right. Carmen was probably wondering where he was.

“I should be going. Thank you for hearing me out.”

“Of course. You can come by any time you like.”

“I’ll see you next week then?”  
  
He nodded. “Sure. If that’s what you want.”

He smiled and stood. “Have a good afternoon, Father.”  
  
“You too, Rafael.”

As he walked back to his office, he felt much lighter even with the buckets of rain pouring down on him.

 

* * *

 

Rafael enjoyed talking to Father Carisi about almost everything. Not just the serious topics. He was an impartial person in his life. He could rant about his colleagues and friends with no fear of judgment or gossip. If he had a frustrating day, he could talk about how incompetent the detectives he worked with could be. He could talk about his mother nagging him to stop working all the time. If a date went poorly, he could rant about his friend trying to set him up. Like today.

“Rita tried to set me up again. I don’t know why I let her.”

Father Carisi laughed as he leaned back in the pew. They were sitting on the left side of the church. Rafael on the outside near the aisle as usual. “Did it not go well?”

“It was _terrible_. He works on Wall Street.”

“Star-crossed lovers?” There was a twinkle in his eye as he smirked. That was another thing Rafael enjoyed about talking to him. He always teased and sassed him. Rafael suspected this was also exactly how he would have communicated with him if he weren’t a priest.

“Hell no. It wouldn't have worked. We are just not compatible. Half the time I think she does this just so I’ll put in the work and finally find someone I actually like.”

“You have a lot of strong, capable women in your life.”

“More than I can handle sometimes. Rita is incredibly persistent. Worse than my mother or Liv. She has a great boyfriend now so she feels like she has to make sure I’m not lonely.”

“Are you? Lonely, I mean.”

“I don’t feel like I am. Sometimes I want to meet the right person, but I’ve been single most of my life. I’m used to it at this point. It’s nothing new.” He sighed. “I wish I could just meet someone like you. Someone I can talk to. I hate how modern dating works.”

Father Carisi laughed. “It’s easy to talk to someone when they’re supposed to listen, you know. If you were dating me, it would not be this easy.”

He smirked. “Really? What’s so difficult about you?”

“Other than my vow of celibacy?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Setting that aside, my sisters all think I’m high and mighty. They think I believe I’m better than them because I’m a priest.”

Rafael laughed. He could definitely picture that reaction from the people he had grown up with. It always threw him for a loop, thinking about what Father Carisi’s life was like before he was ordained. To him, it often felt like he just popped into existence in his mid-thirties with some wisdom and silver streaks in his hair.

“It’s not true,” he continued. “But I seem to give off this air of arrogance and self-importance.”

“I really don’t see that at all if I’m being honest.”

“I’m glad to hear that. But also, my ma hated that I never cleaned my room. I only keep things tidy now because I don’t have many of them. And a lot of people I knew growing up thought I was pretty annoying. I tend to get excited and talk before thinking. I embarrassed myself on several occasions.”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t sound too bad. Better than someone with commitment issues. You wouldn’t cheat, would you?”

“Me? No. Never. I think I would be lucky enough to have one person interested in me, let alone two."

Rafael examined him for a moment. If he pushed aside the fact that he was a priest, Father Carisi was actually handsome. Bright blue eyes, tall and lanky. With the right outfit, he could be incredibly hot.

“I don’t know about that,” he said. “Priest or not, you’re still a pretty attractive man."

This man constantly surprised Rafael. Instead of dismissing the idea, he _blushed_. Bright red.

“Thank you. But fortunately, I don’t have to worry about the modern dating scene. And as you describe it, it does not sound very fun.”

“I’m planning to give up and be a lifelong bachelor anyway. Easier than having to worry about settling down.”

He turned to face him more fully. “That’s fine for some people, but you don’t seem too happy with that idea.”

“If the best I can do is be alone, then that's what I'll do."

"You deserve to be loved, Rafael. You deserve to be cared for."

"That's easy for you to say. You think that about everyone."

“No.” Father Carisi rested his hand on top of Rafael’s. His were blazing with a fervent passion. “I think that especially about you.”

Rafael sat stock still. His pulse pounded in his ears. He had no response. Some priests were more physical with their parishioners, offering reassuring touches. Father Carisi wasn’t. This was completely out of character.

Another thing that made him pause was the look. It held an intensity that, in any other context, Rafael would read as romantic feelings. But he was talking to a Catholic priest. Sworn to celibacy. A gear in the cog of the biggest homophobic organization in the world. And here he was looking at him with absolute devotion. Rafael didn’t know what to do.

He pulled his hand away. “Thank you for your time, Father. I really should be going.”

He quickly stood and strode to the door. He didn’t look back. He didn’t want to see the reaction. Rafael wasn’t sure what was going on. All he knew was that he needed to get out of there.

 

* * *

 

Rafael spent the entire week replaying and analyzing what happened. Maybe he read too much into it. Maybe Father Carisi was just offering support and comfort. The look in his eyes was just compassion. It was nothing more than that.

The other explanation made zero sense. A Catholic priest developing feelings for a parishioner? And another man at that? Highly unlikely. Though, he _had_ been very accepting of Rafael’s bisexuality. Maybe that was because he had his own struggles with his sexuality. But why become a priest then? Why _join_ an organization that reviled your existence?

Rafael liked to think that he and Father Carisi were friends — or as much friends as one could be with a priest. He very much enjoyed talking with him. It calmed and relaxed him in a way he didn’t think was possible. His mother even asked him if he met someone. To her, he seemed to be brighter and happier. And if he were being honest, Rafael maybe had a little crush on him. On yet another unattainable man. Whatever his sexuality, Father Carisi had chosen to devote his life to the Church. That meant celibacy and poverty. There would be no room for any relationship. Especially one with another man, with Rafael.

He was still confused about where he stood with Father Carisi by the time the next Wednesday rolled around. He briefly considered not visiting. He wouldn’t have to face the issue. He wouldn’t have to find an answer. As long as he stayed buried in his work, he could pretend it didn’t exist.

That had been his plan. Entirely. Until the latest case SVU handed him rattled him. He could usually handle child abuse and domestic violence cases with minimal emotional impact. It had been difficult the first few times, trying to avoid comparing it to his own past. But he had adjusted. He had learned how to compartmentalize. How to reel in his emotions. But this one blew through all of his walls like a nuclear bomb.

On the surface, it was a murder case. A woman found dead in her own apartment. Her husband missing. Their son found the body. He had come home from college to visit. And discovered his mother dead on the floor. Naturally, the husband was the first suspect. And the last.

The son immediately rounded on his father. He blamed him for his mother’s death. Explained that he would beat both of them. He had been worried when his mother called on Friday. She seemed shaken, scared. That’s why he came home the next day. But he was too late.

Rafael worked hard to keep his composure as the detectives explained the case. He tried to focus on the facts, the evidence. How to make the case stick. Turned out, it wouldn’t be that hard. All of the DNA evidence and the timeline pointed to the husband. With his son’s testimony, he would likely go away for the murder _and_ the abuse.

Hearing the father’s confession is what sent him over the edge. He tried to justify it. Tried to make it seem like it was _her_ fault. She was too loud, too annoying, too needy. That’s why she deserved to die. His hand curled into a fist.

But once he was alone, Rafael started shaking. This case was too close to home. His mind raced, wondering how many times his mother had been hurt while he was gone. How many close calls. She could have _died_ while Rafael was off getting drunk and hooking up at Harvard. He had been so _irresponsible_. He was paralyzed. His chest tight. His heart hammering.

He needed to see Father Carisi.

It was a bright, warm day. Too pleasant for the family that had been torn apart. Too pleasant for the feelings brewing inside him.

His haunted emotions must have been showing on his face when he stepped inside. Father Carisi immediately walked toward him, incredibly concerned.

“Rafael? Is everything okay?”

He nodded. “I’m okay. It’s just this case.”

They slid into the pew nearest to the door. Rafael gripped the wood tightly. He wasn’t sure he would be able to explain himself without breaking down.

“What is it? How much can you tell me?”

“The charges have been publicly filed. It’s a father accused of murder and abuse.”

He gave a slow nod. “Of his wife.”

“And his son, though he didn’t _kill_ him.”

He didn’t realize he had started trembling again until Father Carisi placed a hand on top of his. It was gentle, soothing. Much like before. When Rafael looked into his eyes, he only saw concern.

“You’re connecting this case to your own life.”

Rafael huffed. “I know.”

“Your mother is alive and well. _You_ are alive and well.”

“All those years I spent away from her. She could have died. And I didn’t care.”

“You had no way of knowing what could or couldn’t happen. You made the best decision you could under the circumstances. And it all turned out okay, considering.”

“Considering,” he repeated. Considering that his father was dead. Considering that he had lost contact with his mother for most of his adult life. Considering the scars both he and his mother still carried. He blinked back the tears stinging at the corners of his eyes.

“Rafael,” Father Carisi spoke even more softly than before. “Can I hug you?”

He frowned at him. “What?”

“It’ll help.”

“I-uh, okay.”

And then he wrapped his arms around him and held him close. Rafael unwittingly relaxed into his chest. His ear pressed against his sternum. The steady heartbeat slowed his own. A warm hand traced circles on his back.

“You can let go. Let it out. You’re safe here.”

That was the last thing he wanted to do. Being held by the priest was embarrassing enough. But the tears came unbidden. And then the sobs. Throughout it all, Father Carisi held him close.

Rafael couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him while he cried. It was the safest he had felt in a long time. His world had shrunk down to himself and the Father. The steady heartbeat. The hushed words of comfort. The warm hand on his back.

When the tears had dried up, he felt incredibly calm. It was almost unsettling. He pulled back and Father Carisi smiled at him.

“Better?”

“Yeah. I think so.”  
  
“You’re doing everything you can to help that boy, Rafael. There’s no sense beating yourself up over things you can’t change.”

He nodded. “It’s hard to let go.”

“You still carry around a lot of guilt. That’s unnecessary. I’m sure that your mother doesn’t blame you for anything.”

“You’re probably right.”

“You should talk to her. Tell her what’s bothering you.”

He smiled. “I have been on a sharing kick recently.”

“You get used to it. Please come see me if you’re ever struggling like this again.”

Rafael took his hand and squeezed. “Of course. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

A trafficking ring. Involving the Catholic Church. It was all of Rafael’s childhood nightmares come true. And some new ones: what if Father Carisi was somehow involved?

He wouldn’t be. He _couldn’t_ be. St. Fabiola’s was the church involved. The only one so far. There hadn’t been a whiff from St. Andrews. Or Father Carisi. But it was still incredibly early in the investigation. They had barely scratched the surface of this. Who knows how deep it could go?

Blackmail wasn’t out of the question. Maybe they had something on Father Carisi that would force him to comply. Rafael still wasn’t sure if the priest was straight. Being queer in the Catholic Church was definitely something that could be used as leverage.

Rafael needed to speak with him. Immediately. He rushed to St. Andrews. He hoped he was there. This was far from their usual meeting time.

Thankfully, he found the priest right where he expected him to be. Tidying up the pews. Rafael hurried to him.

“Hey.”

Father Carisi turned to him with a smile. “Hi, Rafael.” And then he frowned. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah. Kinda. But this isn’t related to me.”

“Okay.”

“We’re investigating a sex trafficking ring. And St. Fabiola’s is involved.”

He tilted his head. “The _Catholic church_ St. Fabiola’s?”  
  
“Yes.”

“How is the church involved?”

“The priests facilitate. Using orphaned and runaway teens.”

He shook his head, disgust plain on his face. “I can’t believe that anyone in the Church would be a part of that.”

“I’m not here to unburden myself, Father.”

Blue eyes examined him. “Are you asking if _I’m_ involved?”

Rafael looked down. “I wish I wasn’t.”

“I’m not. I would never. I am _outraged_ that anyone in the Church would do this. People depend on us. That is the ultimate betrayal of trust.”

He nodded. It sounded genuine enough. “Okay. Then I need to ask a favor.”

The Father was a few steps ahead of him. “You want me to look into this.”

“If you can. We have no idea how far the scope of this goes. Someone on the inside could help.”

“I get the feeling this is not an official ask.”

He sighed. “It’s not. This would be a personal favor to me.”

“Okay.” His jaw set in determination. “I’ll see what I can find. I don’t want anyone to get away with this.”

Rafael’s stomach clenched. Suddenly, he regretted asking. He stepped forward and placed a hand on Father Carisi’s arm. “ _Please_ be careful.”

He met his gaze and nodded seriously. “I will.”

“Really. This isn’t a platitude. I don’t know what they would do if they found out you’re snooping around. They could threaten or hurt you. Kill you even.”

“I’ll be discrete. Don’t worry about me, Rafael.”

“It’s too late for that.”

He gave a sad smile. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

 

* * *

 

In the end, Father Carisi uncovered all of the records St. Fabiola’s kept regarding the ring. A list of all the johns, all of the victims, photos, videos, everything. The case was now a lock. Everyone involved would be going away. Relief flooded through Rafael. Justice would be served.

He felt even more relieved when Father Carisi appeared at his office. He was alive. He was safe. Rafael immediately invited him inside and closed the door behind them. This was an unexpected visit, but he was grateful for it.

“You made the case with those records,” he said with a healthy amount of pride. “You wouldn’t be too bad of a detective, Father.”

“Sonny.”

He turned to face him. “What?”

“Call me Sonny.”

He smiled. He hadn’t known his first name until now. Telling him was a sign of trust and faith. “Okay, Sonny.”

He offered a soft smile. “I’m not here for congratulations.”

“Why are you here?”

Father Carisi– Sonny let out a deep sigh. “I’ve spent too much of my life hiding. Burying secrets. For a long time, I thought it was for the best. But it never turns out well. It never helps. Now, I’m done with that.”

He spoke slowly. “What are you saying?”

Uncharacteristically, the priest appeared nervous. He shifted his weight, licked his lips, and avoided his gaze. “This may or may not come as a surprise, but I like you, Rafael. A lot. And given time, I might even love you. But I can’t have a relationship while I’m in the Church. _Especially_ with another man.”

Rafael nodded, bracing for the blow. For the letdown. The rejection. Their relationship had developed a lot over the past few months. They became closer each week. He found himself developing forbidden feelings for him. Even if the Father reciprocated, it would never go anywhere. It was unfair, but it was life.

“And,” Sonny continued, “all this business with the ring is despicable. I can’t believe that _any_ church would be involved in this. So after it’s cleared up, I’m leaving.” He paused. “And…I hope that you’ll have me.”

Rafael was speechless for a moment. Father Carisi was leaving the Church. Not just because of the ring, but so _he could be with him._ “You’re retiring?”

“As a priest, yeah. After I testify for the grand jury.”

“And you like me? As in _like_ like me?”

Sonny laughed. “Yes. Even though you sounded very teenagery just then.”

Rafael flushed. “I’m just having a hard time processing.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “I kinda dumped a lot on you there.”

“I like you too,” he said. “Just to be clear.”

He smiled. “Good to know.”

“How long have you liked me?” He needed to be certain that this was real. That he wasn’t just latching on to Rafael. That could happen when you first met someone who was open about their sexual orientation.

The blush deepened. “Honestly? Since you stepped into the church the first time.”

He felt a wide smile grow on his face. “Attraction at first sight?”

Sonny chuckled. “Definitely.”

Rafael moved closer, licking his lips. He had avoided thinking about the priest in this way for too long. Now that the truth was out, he felt compelled to ask. “Am I allowed to kiss you now or should I wait until you resign?”

He bit his lip. “No, now is good.”

Rafael smirked and pulled him down into a kiss. The enthusiasm he received was unparalleled. Warm hands pressed into his back and pulled him close. It was _the Father_ who slipped his tongue past Rafael’s lips, causing him to groan. When they broke away, they were both out of breath.

Rafael grinned at Sonny. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

He laughed. “I don’t think I can absolve you of this considering I am also involved.”

“Worth a shot.”

“This isn’t a sin, remember? Nothing we could ever do together would be a sin.”

Those blue eyes smiled at him, full of hope and admiration. Rafael felt his stomach swoop. No one had ever looked at him that way. He felt incredibly special that Sonny had chosen him.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving the Church for me.”

His smile widened. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

If someone had told Rafael six months ago that walking into St. Andrews would result in this, he would have laughed in their face. But now, he was faced with one of the best moments of his life. He wouldn’t change a thing. And he would be damned if he would let it go.


End file.
